Weekend Poetry: Cockatiels

The blue cockatiel stares into the mirror. It pecks its reflection and rings a silver bell.

The blue cockatiel has mirror obsession, where the reflection becomes a mate substitute or a rival.

The yellow cockatiel contracted feather mites, which are small, hard to spot and can be mistaken for dappling. Feather mites can spread to human hosts if left unchecked.

The yellow cockatiel created an abundance of bird dust.

The yellow cockatiel died. It lay on the bottom of the cage and got stiff. It was buried at sea, which is the wish of all cockatiels. Unable to swim in life, they long for water in death. Cool blue water, salty water, their forever home.

The blue cockatiel whistles.

The blue cockatiel has natural vocal abilities that enable it to mimic sounds, such as rain rattling on corrugated iron, faraway thunder in a fictional forest or Eliza Doolittle with a mouth full of marbles.

The blue cockatiel greets its keeper with a cry of pleasure and when you leave the room it gives voice to disappointment.

The blue cockatiel’s vocal mimicry was encouraged by saying a word or phrase repeatedly whenever a certain situation arose.

The blue cockatiel says good morning every day when you enter the room where the blue cockatiel is kept.

The blue cockatiel says the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting when news reaches you that a former colleague has been claimed by quicksand or has become insolvent.

The yellow cockatiel whistled, but fell silent, as the blue one will, in time.

The blue cockatiel watches television, endless television.

The blue cockatiel prefers factual programmes.

The blue cockatiel does not watch cookery shows or quizzes.

The blue cockatiel prefers programmes telling the story of western art, architecture and philosophy since the collapse of the western Roman empire.

The blue cockatiel watches Hitler’s panzers tear across Europe as snow piles up in Moscow to thwart him.

The blue cockatiel watches luminous fish dart around the Great Barrier Reef, in and out of coral.

The yellow cockatiel believed that there are some places on earth where humans shouldn’t go.

The yellow cockatiel watched a famished Wile E. Coyote use a pulley, rope and rock trap to try and squash the passing Road Runner, but instead himself get squashed by the rock as the Road Runner stopped and mocked him.

The yellow cockatiel required a consistent few hours of quality time per day with a person or in a person's company and a good night's sleep in an area with very little noise or distractions.

The yellow cockatiel was equipped with noise cancelling baffles and blackout curtains in solar blue, oyster, duck-egg or aubergine in eyelet or pleat style.

The red cockatiel is another matter entirely.

The red cockatiel has deep symbolic significance.

The red cockatiel figures in scriptures, folklore, poetry and paintings.

The red cockatiel is glimpsed only in dreams, weaving in and out of the coral of the Great Barrier Reef, amongst the anemone fish, surgeon fish, parrotfish, butterfly fish, damselfish, coral trout, groupers, cods and the Maori wrasse.

The red cockatiel is soon to be a major motion picture.

The green cockatiel is never to be spoken of.

The blue cockatiel has the same name as the yellow cockatiel. It tilts its head when you say it. Little blue, whistling bird. He is about seven months old.

The yellow cockatiel felt the way that you do.

The yellow cockatiel was an emotional warrior.

The yellow cockatiel spent a long time gazing at the landscape, knowing that the mountains were impassable.

The yellow cockatiel did not appear to be judging you, but the yellow cockatiel was always judging you.

The blue cockatiel is generally sunny side up.

The blue cockatiel believes that when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.

The yellow cockatiel dreamed of being fully actualised, of being motivated by growth, not by the satisfaction of needs, of being grateful.

The blue cockatiel too will die, although such a prospect is at present unimaginable to the blue cockatiel.

Yellow cockatiel, blue cockatiel, red cockatiel, green cockatiel.

Green cockatiel, yellow cockatiel, blue cockatiel, red cockatiel.

Red cockatiel, green cockatiel, yellow cockatiel, blue cockatiel.

Blue cockatiel, red cockatiel, green cockatiel, yellow cockatiel.

We sing this song as we walk through the covered market, amongst the tubs of cereal and birdseed, which we buy in bulk, containing sunflower, wheat, kibbled maize, red millet, white millet, canary seed, naked oats and pinhead oats, which is a healthy and hearty breakfast choice.

We sing this song in the reference section as we research night frights in cockatiels, where something in the darkness spooks the bird, perhaps a noise, lights or shadows, perhaps headlights shining randomly.

It is summer, friends, and our cages are open, yet still we do not fly.

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